


as you wish

by mistakesforsheep



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anger, Dancing, During Canon, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistakesforsheep/pseuds/mistakesforsheep
Summary: When Dimitri was young, he thought the entire world of Dedue. He has never stopped.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	as you wish

He can’t quite remember actually moving. He can’t remember a lot of it, although it seems like everything he doesn’t want to is pressed into his head with startling clarity. He remembers seeing a line of soldiers and people in front of them. The soldiers had their swords drawn. He’d seen a boy there, the youngest in that line. He’d looked  _ Dimitri’s  _ age. (They’re  _ children _ . How could this even--)

He’d looked so hollow and shocked, like he had already lost so much. At the same time, he’d raised his head to the blade in front of him and set his face.

Dimitri doesn’t remember after that, he thinks. What he does remember is being on the ground and clutching the boy to him, the both of them trembling. His back felt like slashes of fire had been strewn across it, and yet he felt like he couldn’t feel it. 

Dimitri had seen so much death today. So much of something that he should have been able to change and help but that he couldn't. He’d thought, if anything, could he save this boy? Just one thing he'd done right, one way he'd made the world better instead of worse? 

(He's thirteen. How could he have messed so much up by now?)

The boy reaches a hand out to Dimitri. 

Dimitri stares at the hand, tears pricking at his eyes and his breath far away. 

That hand feels like a lifeboat. 

Dimitri clutches it tightly with one hand, and the boy grips him back. Dimitri holds his ground, and the boy pulls himself up. There's something in his eyes, too big and bright to hold, but Dimitri feels like he’s the one who was just granted a miracle. 

The carriage rocks. The boy had held Dimitri’s hand while his back had been bandaged, letting him squeeze tightly. Dimitri had seen a couple tears fall, but he’d tried to act like he hadn’t seen them. 

Dimitri keeps his hands folded in front of him, sneaking glances at the boy. He’s just staring down, eyes pained even as his face quivers an unrelenting show of stoicism. Dimitri tries to mask his emotions and show a calm exterior sometimes, but it’s never worked. Dimitri thinks he’s the coolest man he’s ever met, even if he’s not technically a man yet. Then he immediately wants to smack himself.  _ He just survived a massacre, let him grieve!  _

A sinister whisper starts, small in the back of his mind. Dimitri can feel it prick and stab at him, a sense of violence in there, and yet it is so quiet and muffled he can’t quite make it out. For now, he focuses on the boy with him. 

Dimitri bites his lip, and then whispers, “Um...my name’s...Dimitri. Just,” he smiles as bright as he can, although he feels like his eyes are shining too bright with tears even as the boy looks up to face him. He forces his grin wider. “Just in case you wanted to know.” 

The boy just looks at him, his eyes glancing around his face as if he’s looking for something. Eventually, a soft smiles brushes onto his face, and Dimitri feels a warmth settle in his chest. It feels like an extended hand. And even after he’s given Dimitri that, he gives more--He shifts closer, smiles a tiny bit wider, and then whisper back, his voice lower than Dimitri’s but still like a kid, earnest and kind, “...Dedue.” 

Dimitri grins at him, and Dedue’s eyes soften at the edges. His face is still not super expressive, but Dimitri thinks he really likes him. He just feels--right, somehow, and Dimitri wants something more. 

(Dimitri thinks he’s realizing he’s found a friend, but the feeling feels like it doesn’t fit after--everything. Plus, no friend has ever seemed like they fit him so quick.) 

They ride a bit longer in a more comfortable silence, before Dedue--Dedue!--clears his throat softly. “Dimitri…” he begins, his voice light and higher than when he first spoke. It’s also slightly raspy, like when Dimitri doesn’t speak for a while and doesn’t drink water before having to answer a question during studies. Dimitri looks intently at Dedue quickly, and Dedue takes a breath and faces him head on. “Thank you. For saving me. I--” 

Dimitri just moves, putting his hand on Dedue’s own resting on his knee, leaning closer in earnest--” _ Please _ . We’re--we’re friends. I--”

Dedue is staring back at him with wide eyes. Dimitri feels just as caught. What is going on here, that Dimitri is riding with a survivor of a--of a massacre. How could this be something that  _ happens _ ?

“Dedue, I would save any of my friends. As well as...it was the right thing to do. This...all of it...it should have never happened in the first place.” 

Dedue stares at Dimitri, before he looks out the window. His mouth quivers, and Dimitri can’t tell if he’s appreciative, angry, or just sad. Dimitri has so many emotions in him right now that he knows it might be all of them. Dedue’s gaze wanders out the window of the carriage, and his brow takes on the distinct quality of a glare. Dimitri can already tell it’s not directed at him. Dedue’s eyes are far off and full of fog, and Dimitri can a storm hidden behind his eyes. In a carefully controlled whisper, Dedue says, “No...no, it should not have happened.” 

There’s a flash of true rage in his eyes, for just a moment, before he turns to look at Dimitri, and his eyebrows tilt upwards, and he looks at Dimitri with such appreciation and tenderness. With a faint, sad smile, Dedue says, “At any rate, thank you, Dimitri...My friend.” 

Dimitri smiles at him, his eyes watery, and turns back to stare forward so Dedue does not have to see him cry. Dedue probably knows. Dedue sniffs occasionally, his lip quivering as Dimitri can see him trying to keep a brave face. 

Dimitri can hang on, though, because the entire ride, Dedue doesn’t let go of his hand. They both squeeze each other to hang on.

When they come back and settle into their home--Dimitri’s home, and now forcibly Dedue’s--nothing feels right. Dimitri would have been coming back to not having so much of his family--his father, his stepmother, Glenn,  _ so many _ \--and yet now he’s also coming back after having witnessed the most horrific thing he could imagine times--he can’t even think of the rest of it. Nothing can compare to what he’s seen. 

And Dedue…

Dimitri can’t think too much on how much Dedue has lost, how Dedue must be feeling. He tries not to show any of it, but when Dimitri thinks about what might be under that calm exterior--it hurts, like a great collapse in his chest. And yet he feels guilty for shying away from these feelings just because they are so much when Dedue has to deal with them  _ all the time _ . So he works harder to understand his new friend even when it hurts. 

Especially when that friend is his only one. 

It is not only that he has lost the people who used to be his friend. He realizes when interacting with the few children his age around the castle, when he is tutored and trained--these people simply do not fit in with him anymore. It is not that he has grown. But he is a different thing now. The Dimitri that lived in a world where Duscur had not been burned to the ground, and his family before it--he is unrecognizable to the Dimitri that lives now. 

_ The Dimitri now is the Dimitri that has dead men living in his head _

The only person who even has a chance to understand him would be Dedue. Dimitri is lucky he and Dedue just...mesh, he could say. But they do. It is so easy. 

The first few days are quiet. There is still the overhanging grief, heavy and inescapable. It doesn’t leave, but he and Dedue start branching out. Dedue follows him when he wanders the forests around his castle, and they start smiling at each other and then laughing. It feels incorrect to spend time without Dedue, soon. Dedue is his most constant companion, and his closest at that. It is the only bright thing in Dimitri life now, but it is such a bright thing Dimitri doesn’t even mind it. 

Dimitri eats lunch with Dedue at his side, sighing about the many responsibilities they’re putting on him. Dedue pokes him and teases him occasionally, but it’s all things that make Dimitri snort and cackle with him. They spend hours upon hours in the library, occasionally looking at the other and making small comments. The sporadic taunts or ramblings and just simply  _ knowing  _ the other is around has gotten the both of them through intensive studies. Dimitri takes scolding from the distant adults around him, but at least he can always come back to Dedue at his side. When it cuts the deepest, Dimitri leans his head on Dedue’s shoulders, and just closes his eyes. 

Dimitri has had friends before. He still does. But he wonders if after Duscur he’s something that can’t be their friend anymore. If the grief and pain is something that sits so heavily and large in him that it’s made no space for anyone except for someone else who carries it. Which, of course, is Dedue. The idea that it’s only living through Duscur that makes them friends makes Dimitri angry, though. Dedue is--kind, and funny, and responsible and serious and so strong and capable and understanding. Dimitri looks at him sometimes and just thinks that if there were ever a perfect person, it must be Dedue. As a child, it seems so simple and absolute. Dedue is perfect. He and Dimitri fit so exact together, it has to be true. Not in an unflawed way, but in the way that Dimitri thinks maybe the Goddess made the both of them so they could live their lives  _ together _ , and that was the way it  _ should  _ be. 

It’s a comfortable staple of life that Dimitri carries tightly in his chest. He holds it as close as he holds Dedue himself, and like the boy himself, it smiles at him and stays by his side, making him able of anything that comes to him. 

He does learn if he can still be friends with others, even after Duscur. His friends, Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix, they all visit him extensively for a couple weeks in the summer. Grief hangs between them and drips onto all their interactions, sticks like a web around them as they are brought in. They all just stand with their hands clasped and looking at each awkwardly. 

By noon, however, they’re all laughing and playing roughly and yelling at each other. Felix is calling after him excited about things, Sylvain makes him laugh, Ingrid is determined and rough. They are his friends, like they’ve always been. Even with the grief. It’s simply placed under the layers of them, set beneath them. But there’s still the happiness and friendship. Dimitri looks at them for a moment and tries not to cry. 

When he looks across the courtyard, he sees Dedue. He’d been himself strangely scarce today. Dimitri grins at him, automatic. Dedue is in the garden, somewhere he seems to hold an intense, quiet love for. Dedue lifts a hand over his brow, the sun burning in over his head. When he sees Dimitri’s smile, he grins, small, back at him. Dimitri’s chest fills with a warmth--no, not a warmth, it’s a burn even if it feels lovely, it’s too hot for  _ warm _ . 

Dimitri can have friends, but Dedue is something more. He just doesn’t understand quite what yet. 

(Felix stops answering even his letters after Dimitri’s maiden battle. Ingrid has a strange tenseness with Dedue that makes Dimitri feel sour in the back of his throat. Sylvain seems hollower as time goes on. The only constant is Dedue, always there for him, always lovely. And as time goes on, Dimitri loses himself more and more to his madness.)

Dimitri wanders alongside the riverside, scuffing his feet along the dirt restlessly while keeping his palms tightly held behind his back. He had his lessons on posture today, and they always stick in his spine after, even when he just wants to relax. Dedue follows next to him, although Dimitri notices him looking around at everything with interest barely contained in his eyes. 

Dimitri totters on a log over a bridge, his eyes down and focused as Dedue stays on the land behind him. Dimitri muses absently although with faint cheer, “Maybe I can just promote you to my highest advisor! That way you and I can always be together, and if anyone asks if we’re avoiding studies, I can just say, “He’s advising me!” It’d work everytime.” Dimitri snorts and giggles and cackles at how silly it sounds, and twists around to see Dedue’s reaction. Dedue snorts, and then is smiling softly at him, an amused and fond tilt to his mouth. Dimitri really likes that smile on him. 

Dedue’s eyes wander to the side, and he murmurs low as Dimitri strains to hear him, “That sounds nice, although...I would like to earn everything I get for myself. I…” He trails off, and then looks frustrated at himself for not being able to explain himself all the way. 

Dimitri smiles at him, understanding. “Yeah. Okay. Then I shall wait for you to work and study very hard, and then when you have proven yourself the best for the job anyway,  _ then _ I shall promote you.” 

Dimitri grins big at Dedue then, so big he squishes his eyes shut, and when he peeks out, Dedue is grinning at him too. One of the biggest smiles Dimitri has ever seen on him, and it is soft and adoring and touched all in one, so Dimitri thinks that one just might be his favorite. 

When Dimitri is young, he meets Dedue in a horrid nightmare. After, Dedue treats him with nothing but unending kindness. Dimitri does not understand how a boy of fourteen can be so strong. Dimitri feels like he is made of paper with just a year less time between them, and then he turns and looks at Dedue, always strong and always reliable. 

Dedue is there for him in everything, always at his side. He does not speak much, so Dimitri hangs on to every time he does like a treasure. It is usually just an answer to something simple, such as a request or something else of the sort, but Dimitri likes it. He doesn't have an incredibly deep voice, although his voice is getting lower and will have the occasional hiccup from puberty. But despite all that he sounds so responsible and...wise, especially for a boy so young. He finds it impressive, incredible, awe-inspiring, of course, but it also makes him sad. Dimitri knows the kind of things that make kids grow up too fast and be too strong, and they are all unfair and terrible things. Dedue deserved none of it. Dimitri wonders if he has any bits of childhood left, if he still lets himself get excited, even in a quiet way. Dimitri knows it’s certainly harder for him, after everything. It feels like he doesn’t deserve what he has and he feels like he’s lost most of what he used to. 

On a day when Dimitri is out in the garden, hiding from people. He doesn’t know why, but on that day, everything has just seemed so much harder to bear. There should be a reason for it, but it doesn’t seem like it. All he knows is his tutors have scolded him and warned him to keep working because of his many, many responsibilities. He knows about his responsibilities. They make it hard for him to breathe. He doesn’t need the reminder. 

He's tucked into the corner near the stone wall surrounding the garden, at the very edges of the foliage from the garden itself, hesitantly fingering the leaves of a plant. When he accidentally rips one apart because he misjudged his strength, he tries not to cry, and keeps his hands to himself, even when he longs to look at the flowers closer. 

Steady footsteps sound along the stone path, and he is instantly sure someone has found him and is going to drag him back. He squeezes further back into the corner, trying to make himself small, when Dedue appears at the end of the path on the other end, his back facing Dimitri. He looks around carefully, tucking behind his ear a piece of his pale hair that's gotten away from his ponytail. (Dimitri has never seen it down. He's started wanting it with a ferocity that scares him.) When Dedue notices no one coming in around the garden, he unbuttons his jacket and lays it on the dirt with the inside facing up, and kneels carefully onto it. Dimitri can't see his expression, but he watches his shoulders relax the most he’s ever seen them, going all the way back until when they had met. Dimitri feels entranced, seeing Dedue in a way he’s never seen before, especially when Dedue turns to the side and Dimitri can see a soft smile on his face. He's just looking at all the flowers and plants, taking them in--from the stems to each leaf or petal he can make out. He eventually reaches a hand out and touches one of the flowers, the barest press of his fingers around its edges. Underneath his hand, the petal does not break. Dimitri would not be surprised to see it bloom. 

It is in that time that Dimitri watches him relax enough that he lets his guard down enough and he looks--overwhelmingly tired. He looks sad and guilty and every emotion Dimitri thought he had found some way to bypass to be the immovable man Dimitri has known. He can see the way the bags under his eyes tug him down, and the intense grief in those eyes themselves--at one point his face simply crumples. It is sadness wrought in every cinch of his face, and he looks on the verge of crying and screaming, yet he only rocks forward on his knees. He shoves his hands to his face, covering it with his palms, and his shoulders shake, but Dimitri does not think he is crying. Even now, when he thinks he is alone--

The thought wracks Dimitri with a strong sense of guilt--he wants to be able to know Dedue better, and knowing that perhaps they have this same struggle--trying to survive the Tragedy of Duscur even after they have already lived through it--but Dedue wanted solitude to deal with this grief. And Dimitri is stepping all over it, even if it is unintentional. Dimitri couldn’t bear to interrupt, so he does not move. But he does put his head between his knees and wraps his arms around them, and sits there silently with his eyes closed until much later. When he looks up, Dedue is gone.

Those around Dimitri could technically say that Dedue follows Dimitri around when they come back, but Dimitri always feels like he’s trailing behind Dedue. Dedue is just...his best friend. He likes talking to him and being around him so much, and Dedue is simply the greatest man he’s ever known. It’s astonishing to know a man like that. 

Dimitri runs over to Dedue and throws himself onto his back, hugging him from behind. “Dedue, hello! I feel like it’s been  _ years _ . Come with me on a walk?” 

The first sign something is wrong is immediate--Dedue stiffens. He has just come back from a training visit sort of thing one of his uncles insisted on to teach Dedue more about Faerghus culture. Dedue stiffens, and then clears his throat. “I….If you would so wish…” 

There’s a long pause, and then Dedue says the words that cut Dimitri to his bones. 

“...Your Highness.” 

Dimitri pesters Dedue incessantly following, but Dedue is a wall. All he says is that it’s proper, and yet Dimitri pleads  _ Please, Dedue, you’re my  _ friend _! _

Dedue only looks at him sadly, and then turns away to remain a silent vigil. 

Dimitri cries hard that night, sure he’s lost his greatest friend and having no idea what he did to lose him. It’s like he lost his entire rib cage, heart and all, and Dimitri has never had a friendship being lost hurt so bad. He doesn’t understand why it hurts so much now that it feels like Dedue is gone. All he knows is that he’s not sure he can bear it. 

And then there are the voices.

However, the next morning, Dedue is there by his side, and Dimitri teases him on habit. He freezes when he does, because he’s sure Dedue will scold him for it, say it is improper. Instead, Dedue smiles and teases him back. It’s not as biting as it might have been, more proper and ‘respectful’, and he only addresses Dimitri now by ‘Your Highness.’ But he still talks to him, and he still reaches out, and he still looks at Dimitri as if he’s wonderful. The change makes Dimitri unbearably sad, still, the faint distance now between them. Dimitri just wants Dedue by his side, close and cherished, for as long as--well, forever, probably. 

If it’s what he can have, though, Dimitri is glad for it. As long as he has Dedue with him, he’s still happy, even if it’s not all he wanted. 

  
  


Dimitri was awkward in the room, pacing faintly and biting at his nails. He’d just had a conversation with distant family members. Many of them had been thinly veiled requests to ‘take care of him’ and deal with the pesky political responsibilities. However, he had queries about Dedue’s official role at the castle.  _ As if it was not the least of things he could offer Dedue, when the weight of sins are as heavy as the shouts in his ears of dead men-- _

Dimitri hadn’t quite known what to say. He was a prince, his head was stuffy and caught, he didn’t think about how he had to give Dedue an official role. He’d just wanted Dedue to be able to live with him and be able to make his own life after the Tragedy of Duscur. He didn’t want Dedue to leave. He quite liked him, even if he was very quiet and serious. However. If Dedue wanted to leave, live his own life free of having to see Dimitri, Dimitri would give him the supplies and money to do it comfortably and send him on his way. 

Fortunately for him, Dedue seemed content to stay around Dimitri. Dimitri could not express how much he appreciated that simple idea. 

He told Dedue, “Unless you object, I would like to take you on officially as a knight training in my home.” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at the floor and pinching at his chin as he thought. “It may also be pertinent to declare you as one of my vassals, although that can wait until you are older, perhaps, and finished with your training as a knight...Of course, if you would like it now, you are certainly able to have it. As it stands, I’ve been looking into land I’ll be able to arrange to give to you when you wish to have it. Of course, as my direct vassal, you could be quite the high ranking noble. If you wish to take on any vassals of your own, you are certainly free to do so, that might make some things easier for you, and--” 

“Your Highness,” Dedue says, and Dimitri freezes, looking up at him. He watches with wide eyes as Dedue kneels on one knee in front of him, fist to his chest and head bowed. “I do not need anything but to continue to be in your service. The only thing I can possibly accept is the ability to train and become the best knight I can be to serve you better. Anything else would be inappropriate. As a vassal, if you decide to appoint me so, I formally give my undying loyalty to you, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri protests, stuttering, “Dedue, there is nothing inappropriate about it, I assure you, please, I-- _ please _ , Dedue, stand, I cannot bear to see you kneel to me.” Dimitri bites his tongue on the  _ you are a much better man than me, _ but even in the short time they’ve known each other, Dedue has made clear he won’t stand for it. Dimitri has already tried to cease the habit of kneeling before him, but Dedue has been adamant about it. Dimitri misses faintly when Dedue was less familiar with Faerghan tradition--he’d treated him more like Dimitri wants him to treat him. 

Like a friend. But it seems Dimitri has always wanted for impossible things.

  
  


Dimitri is out some ways from the training grounds, his head feeling unbearably clogged and just wanting some  _ peace _ . It is how he stumbles upon Dedue acting...different. Strange? It feels more like he’s looking at a picture with most of the pieces out of the picture. What is Dedue doing? 

Dimitri doesn't announce his presence just yet, because Dedue is looking around the side yard of the castle with an intense look on his face. Dimitri watches him wander around, peeking over and behind things, before he sees him stop in front of a barrel with half the top off of it. 

Faintly, Dimitri's hears the barrel giggle. Dimitri realizes what must be going on, and he covers his mouth when he smiles even as he's not sure he believes it. Dedue strokes his chin, glaring down at the barrel, humming inquisitively. After a tense second, he turns his back to the barrel and crosses his arms over his chest. Dimitri steps closer to the wall so he can peer out. Dedue hums again, but he closes his eyes, and Dimitri freezes when he realizes Dedue’s smiling, small but almost certainly delighted. His voice as calm and serious as ever, Dedue muses loudly, "Now where could she be… I am certain I've checked everywhere…" he stands there another moment, his mouth twitching when the barrel giggles and the loud slap of a hand over a mouth is heard, and then more muffled giggles. Dimitri is grinning now. Dedue sighs. "I shall probably have to check another room, there is clearly no way she could still be in here." 

Dedue waits, and the barrel snorts, but otherwise doesn't move. His expression looks overwhelmingly fond. Dedue steps forward then, away from the barrel, but that's all it takes before the barrel's top goes flying off and a kid shoots to standing from inside, a loud, giggly screech without words after Dedue. 

Dedue doesn't make a big show, but his body does a clear flinch as if he was startled. Dimitri, however, has seen Dedue react impassively to much more startling things without so much of a twitch on his brow. Dedue turns to the little girl, a hand on his chest, his eyebrows raised and his eyes slightly widened. Dimitri never thought about Dedue in comparison with children, but he might have expected him to be respectful yet closed off. Yet here he is, making himself just expressive enough to play a silly game. Dimitri thinks he is unbearably lovely.. 

To the little girl, Dedue is narrowing his eyebrows. Dimitri has heard the terrible things people have said about him, and might wonder if the girl has been told and believes them, but here Dedue is playing at admonishment and it only makes her bounce where she is, grinning excitedly. Dedue says, "Now where did you come from? I know I checked everywhere." His face goes suspicious. "You don't have magical concealing abilities, do you, young lady?" 

The kid cackles, clutching her stomach. "No! You're so silly!" 

Dedue is scratching at his chin, a fierce look of concentration. "Hm, I'm not so sure. There's no way you could have been here and I didn't notice." He squints down at her, and then kneels on one knee, leaning close. The girl leans forward, her eyes wide and serious. Dedue whispers conspiratorially, “If you have magic like that, I promise I won’t tell anyone. But I will have to watch for--” Dedue looks at the barrel, and then a bush right next to it. “...suspicious looking bushes.” 

The girl cracks up again, throwing her body back. “I wasn’t doing magic! I was just hiding!” She jabs a finger dramatically at the barrel. “It was  _ that _ barrel.” 

Dedue looks intently at the barrel, with all the focus Dimitri has seen when he reads his studies. Dedue says seriously, “Impossible.” 

The girl snorts, laughing. “It’s true, it’s true! See!” She steps toward the barrel, then pivots to Dedue. “Wait, turn around.” 

Dedue hums. “Hm, but then how will I know how it works?” 

The girl groans, clearly exasperated. “ _ Obviously _ you can’t see how I  _ do _ it. I’ll  _ explain _ when I’ve hidden!” 

Dedue nods, “Ah, yes, of course.” He stands and turns around, his hands clasped behind his back. Dimitri bites his lip to try and stop his grin. Dedue glances over to the archway, and then freezes when he sees Dimitri. Dimitri’s heart stops. He doesn’t want to ruin this just because he wanted to see more of Dedue, especially when he wasn’t acting out of ‘proper conduct’ around his prince, as he often says. His face twists in remorse, but Dedue washes the shock off his face and instead looks forward again, clearing his throat. Dimitri thinks...yes, there’s the faintest sign of a blush. He looks faintly embarrassed, but he’s not giving up the game despite it. 

How could Dimitri possibly get so lucky to be with a man like Dedue? 

Dimitri, who’s mind has been recently bothered by talks of suitable marriages to powerful children of important families, immediately says,  _ Dedue would probably be a wonderful husband.  _ Immediately, he blushes much harder than Dedue, a hot burn all across his face, and scampers off .

On the anniversary of The Tragedy of Duscur, the first of a terrible tradition that Dimitri can never let die, because he cannot stand letting himself or others blissfully forget what they've done, nevertheless the voices in his head from the dead themselves that won’t let him forget-- Dimitri is a total wreck. He is angry and moody and self deprecating, lashing out at everyone around him. Everyone except Dedue. He tries to get every glimpse he can get of Dedue usually, delighted to just be around him, but on that day, every time he looks at him he is wracked with guilt. He walks on eggshells around him, barely asking anything of him or trying to get him out of usual duties, even if they are not things he does for Dimitri.

By late evening, Dedue has had enough. 

When Dimitri dismisses him early in the evening even as Dimitri is surrounded by proposals of things only the prince can give authority for, even if he is a hormonal fourteen year old boy, Dedue frowns and turns halfway away from him. Without looking at him at all, he says low, "Your Highness, please, stop." 

Dimitri stops moving. He feels ashamed and transparent and not like nearly enough, and says, "But--Dedue, please, it's fine--" 

It is then that Dimitri notices Dedue's tense shoulders, hard as stone, and his fist he has clenched by his side. He is shaking.

Dimitri stares, and then suddenly, he feels calm. To Dedue, he says, “Dedue, will you accompany me on a walk?” 

Dedue looks up surprised, and shakes himself out of it, stands tall, as he says, “Yes, of course, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri walks to the garden. When Dedue notices where he’s taking him, Dimitri hears the intake of breath that he takes before going to speak. Except he doesn’t quite get there, and instead they walk all the way there in silence. When they get there, Dimitri takes them to the most hidden corner, the places he’s hidden and seen Dedue find time and time again. He kneels into the dirt, placing his hands casually on his thighs. He sits back and settles in on his knees, and Dedue stands next to him. He’s hesitating. 

Dedue slowly kneels down on one knee, body turned toward Dimitri. Dimitri hears him swallow, then he gently places a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, firm and comforting. Dedue’s voice comes slow. “...Your Highness.” 

There’s a long pause. 

He clears his throat. There’s a note of tiredness there. “Whatever you may be thinking, about what happened being your fault--” 

Dimitri has told Dedue about that kind of thingbefore. He has confessed to him his guilt, rambling to him about how much he hurts and the places his thoughts go. Dedue is always there for him, Dimitri’s greatest friend and the most trusted confidant he could have. 

It is the anniversary of the worst thing to ever happen to Dedue. To everything he ever knew, and here he is, trying to comfort Dimitri. Dimitri needs to extend his hand to Dedue, he thinks, instead of always taking Dedue’s ever present hand. 

Dedue is taken aback, stiff, when Dimitri turns and throws his arms around him, clutches him close to his chest. He holds him tightly, warm and steady against him. With his face in Dedue’s neck, he takes a shaky breath. The plan was to extend a comfort to Dedue, but this is the most safe and accepted he’s felt in...he can’t remember. He feels so warm. 

He doesn’t even know if Dedue likes being touched. He keeps to himself, but Dimitri doesn’t know if that’s out of propriety or his own preference. He can’t remember before Dedue started building his boundaries--he might have been more physically affectionate, but Dimitri hadn’t known he should have been watching and remembering it. He clenches his fist in the back of Dedue’s shirt. Slowly, Dedue’s arms come up around him, as if he is hesitantly trying to reach back. His hands settle on Dimitri’s back, warm and large, and Dimitri hates that he feels so lovely that he feels inadequate in trying to comfort Dedue. How does Dedue know how to do everything so well, and be such a kind presence even when he is hurting? How can a man like him be around something like Dimitri? How is it fair? 

Dimitri tries to pull himself together, and all he can think to say is, shaky, his eyes clenched shut, is, “You didn’t deserve it, Dedue. None of them did. I am so sorry, my friend.” 

Dimitri worries Dedue will protest his use of ‘friend.’ Dedue has never let Dimitri say that Dimitri doesn’t deserve something or another, because Dedue would always say that there must have been a reason. 

Instead, Dedue freezes in his arms. He stays that frightening still until he sinks into Dimitri’s arms, and it is the first time Dimitri is glad for his animalistic strength. He holds Dedue easily, steadily bracing them against the earth, and Dedue squeezes Dimitri tightly, shaking and trembling against him, taking in quiet gasps. Dimitri can feel the occasional tear drop against his neck. Dedue’s hair is soft when he presses a hand at the back of his head and holds him closer. 

Dedue finally pulls away, drawing his hands down Dimitri’s arms gently and taking his hands into his own. He raises them with such care, and even with his face tear streaked and wet, he presses a tender kiss against them, his eyes closed. He lingers for a long moment, and Dimitri feels his heart run rapid. Dedue rests his forehead against Dimitri’s knuckles. 

Dimitri gasps, desperate and crying slowly. He doesn’t remember starting. “Dedue, one day, there will be justice. I swear to it. You and I, we shall make it happen.” 

Dedue looks at him, and smiles. 

Dedue spends long into the night kneeling in the garden and holding Dimitri’s hand in his lap. He stares off into the ground, his eyes distant, and sad, and affectionate, at times. 

He falls asleep there, his head resting on Dimitri’s shoulder. Dimitri considers carrying him to his room. He could do it, he thinks, and the idea of being able to hold Dedue like that makes him glow, his dearest friend, but he does not think Dedue would like the idea of being seen so vulnerable, perhaps. Not to mention how he would worry about the image of a prince and his vassal. 

He leaves and grabs the first blanket he sees, and then settles next to Dedue, eventually falling asleep against the garden wall, their heads gently resting together. 

Dimitri looks to his idols, especially Catherine, the knight who’s visited the castle on occasion. She is strong and intelligent with her strategy, and even then, she isn’t angry and violent. She’s so casual, and had been kind and encouraging to Dimitri as a child all while remaining noble and cool. She has probably never thirsted for blood the way Dimitri does. He worries that his attempts to become more like her tarnish her image by the attempt alone. 

  
  
  


Dimitri’s mind is black, a thick fog draped and suffocating him in a tight, violent hold. 

When it clears enough for him to register much of anything else, he sees a blurred nothing, and then Dedue comes in clear focus. Dimitri feels the snarl caught on his face, and the fog fades away to be quickly swept over with sharp terror and shame. How could he let Dedue, of all people? How could he have let him see him like this? 

Dedue’s face isn’t disgusted. It’s not his careful blank he maintains with everyone else, but rather his neutral waiting hand for Dimitri to come to him. Dedue takes a breath, asks, “Your Highness, can I get you anything?” 

Dimitri can taste the waft of blood stenched words in his throat. He licks his lips, cracked and dry as they are, and croaks, “Some water, please. Dedue.” 

Dedue nods, looking at Dimitri as kind and perfect as ever. Dimitri chokes on the love he has for him. Dedue says, “Of course, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri says, “Okay.” 

That night, he stays up not only because of the dead, but because he is thinking about Dedue. He realizes more and more that there’s something different about Dedue, or at least different about how he sees him. He doesn’t see Dedue as he sees his other friends, although he knows Dedue is definitely his friend. But he doesn’t feel flustered looking at his other friends, just because they’ve been training and look strong and capable. He’s started wanting to simply touch and hold Dedue at all times--not because he’s sad, not because he’s ecstatic, but because it’s  _ Dedue _ , and he wants--what does he want? What is this? 

He wants to spend the rest of his life with Dedue at his side, and he’s been scared Dedue will realize one day that a life with Dimitri isn’t what he likes. But Dedue sees his madness, the absolute worst of him, and he’s still attentive and caring and fond of Dimitri, like he only cares for him more. 

The next afternoon, one of his advisors is talking to him about marriage arrangements. He looks over at Dedue, working on a book of military strategy on his own. Dedue runs his hand over his hair, focused on his book. He’s the most handsome and beautiful person Dimitri knows. Dimitri just keeps looking, and when he can’t get himself to stop thinking  _ why not Dedue? We already want to spend the rest of our lives together, I don’t want anything more.  _ That is when it starts to click in Dimitri. 

It scares him. He wants it too much. 

  
  


Dimitri approaches the subject carefully. 

“Dedue….I am going to be attending the Garreg Mach monastery, as you know.” 

Dedue, attentive, but raises a confused eyebrow at him “Yes, Your Highness.” 

“And I would like you...to come with me?” 

Dedue’s face registers surprise, but only barely, and it is quickly wiped off. “As your guard?” 

The response immediately sits dull in his stomach. “As...as a fellow student. As my….” Dimitri feels a catch in his throat, strangely afraid. He swallows, and summons his strength. “As my friend.” 

Dedue frowns. Dimitri swallows. He understands Dedue well enough by this point. 

“Yes...very well. Still...will you come?” 

Dedue stares at him, very deeply and very intense. Dimitri can’t pull his eyes away, caught in the dark of his eyes. His breath seems to have gotten away from him. Dedue is very handsome. 

Dedue says, slowly and without taking his gaze from Dimitri, “If you wish it, Your Highness. Anything.” 

It is not everything Dimitri wanted. But it is Dedue, in any form. It makes him smile, and Dedue’s eyes and mouth soften in one of his own. 

  
  


They move into Garreg Mach together. It feels like a change. Like perhaps this is a place Dedue will at least treat Dimitri as his equal, even if he should be seen as far better than the man Dimitri is. 

Voices rage in Dimitri’s head, but he struggles through with a shaky smile and tight eyes. Dedue is the happiest Dimitri has seen him in awhile. He still likes to keep a sharp distance, a firm line of prince and vassal, like he was told. Dimitri knows why, and yet it still hurts him. 

It’s nice to see Dedue interacting with other people. Dimitri wants to scream at them,  _ appreciate him! Understand what fortune you have been brought you worthless fools-- _ he does not, as he does not say most of what lashes and screams in his head. Still, seeing other students who like Dedue genuinely and interact with him. There are so many strong personalities that see and love Dedue and can be his friend even when Dimitri cannot. It  _ hurts _ . Especially as Dimitri watches his love for Dedue bloom larger and larger, and it only shows that he will never get such a love with Dedue--even if Dedue felt the same (his head screams that someone so good as Dedue could not love a monster, and Dimitri is inclined to agree)--even if he burned for Dimitri the way Dimitri burns for him. Dimitri can already hear it, that people would see it as improper. Sometimes Dimitri secretly wishes to tear the monarchy apart piece by fucking piece, even if only to call Dedue his friend and hear Dedue call him the same. 

His brain makes the jump to imagine  _ friend _ into  _ lover _ , and it is lovely and impossible Dimitri tries not to cry. 

  
  


Dedue will cook for him, sometimes. 

He’s done it many times in the past, to take care of his prince or when Dimitri craved a certain snack even if he didn’t ask for it. He’d made mostly what he’d known that Dimitri liked, but Dimitri knows he cooks for himself when he can sneak in the time and the space to be alone. He tries hard to hide it, so Dimitri has yet to see if he can join him. 

It’s late at night in the monastery, and Dimitri walks into the monastery kitchen. He’d heard the faint sound of pans clanging softly, and he’d already been--well, there’d been no reason not to investigate. Even from the sounds, he can tell it’s not in a disordered, careless way they’re being handled, but an organized, dutiful attention that makes it not entirely surprising that the person he walks in to see is Dedue. He’s standing over the stove, a pan on the burner. He’s staring down at it with an easy but focused expression, which is rare for Dimitri to see. Dedue does not seem to allow himself to relax often. But Dedue looks up, and when he sees Dimitri, surprise and faint shame fall open in his expression. Dedue is not brashly expressive, but Dimitri has watched so very carefully that he’s gotten better at understanding even his smallest expressions. Dimitri hopes to be many things, and one of his largest priorities is becoming the one in the world who knows Dedue the most, especially his expressions. He feels it is one of his more selfish goals, but he wants it viciously all the same. 

“Dedue,” Dimitri says softly, feels himself smile, “what a surprise to see you up so late.” 

Dedue looks abashed. “Your Highness, I apologize. I did not awaken you, did I? I did not mean to leave you to walk alone, either, I simply--” He glances down at what he’s cooking, and he looks guilty. 

Dimitri is in his more comfortable clothes at this time of night, and he’s glad for it. Dedue is still in his uniform, but he’s taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his undershirt. Frankly, it’s a...very appealing sight. Dimitri tries not to feel too guilty about noticing. Dedue is a very athletic and built man, anyone would notice his muscles, but he can’t even lie to himself that it’s an objective observation. He knows he is only too weak in the face of this. When it was just him and Dedue, when he was younger, he had always thought Dedue was the model for beautiful people, especially handsome men. It had certainly explained why everyone else was always a let down. Compared to Dedue, they had always seemed much too plain. 

Dimitri shakes his head, tries not to focus on how his sleeves makes his forearms and biceps very appealing, and walks closer to where Dedue is working. “No need to apologize. You certainly couldn’t have woken me up from all the way over here, and I made it here just fine by myself.” 

Dedue still looks too guilty. “But, I should have walked with you just in case--” 

Dimitri sighs, but he feels fond. Dedue is too caring for a thing like him. Slightly teasing, but mostly because he knows Dedue will want to do it anyway, “You can walk me back then, how’s that?” 

Dedue’s shoulders relax, and Dimitri smiles. Dedue smiles faintly for him, and Dimitri feels his heart stutter. “Thank you.” 

Dimitri wants to scream,  _ no, please, thank you, thank you, thank _ \-- He clears his throat. “No trouble for me.” He wants to say something about how he should be thanking Dedue, simply because Dedue is the one doing something for him. But Dedue would argue it as well, and Dimitri can’t trust himself to keep from spilling his feelings everywhere. 

Dedue looks down at the pan, and the faintest flicker of sadness covers him before he wipes it off. He places his hand on the dial to turn off the stove, “I’ll walk you now, then--” 

Dimitri doesn’t think before he jerks, bursts, “No!” 

It’s louder and more forceful than he means, and he feels guilty about how surprised Dedue looks, but he doesn’t turn the knob, and Dimitri is glad. He raises his fist to his mouth, gently clears his throat to try and regain his composure. He says, calm and ultimately level, “Um, no, please. I-I would love to see what you are making. And, well, frankly, if there’s enough to share I’d love to try some myself. You-you’ve always been a wonderful cook.” 

Now, Dedue simply looks embarrassed, looking off to the side. “Well, it’s--if I’d known you would be having it as well I would never have--I can make something new, please--” 

Dimitri raises a hand faintly, alarmed. “No, of course not! I’d love to know what you make for yourself. I certainly would not want you to have to make an entirely new meal. Please,” he says, gesturing with an open hand to the food. He swallows, feels...shy. “T-tell me all about it.” 

Dedue looks down, conflicted, and then he glances at Dimitri. Dimitri smiles, as nicely as he can, hopefully encouraging Dedue to not deny himself this comfort for the sake of-- Dedue sighs, an obvious concession to himself, and Dimitri tries not to openly cheer. Still, he’s so excited. Dedue! Telling him about himself!

Dedue clears his throat, and grabs the wooden tool laying on a plate next to the stove, starts to push the mix around with the ease of experience. He talks, the same incredible focus on his work and his words, as he moves, “It’s...a meal from Duscur. It was one of my favorites, although more as a quick snack or comfort food than anything else. Truly, my real favorite was a meal we would spend all day preparing. It took so much prep work, and was so time consuming that we couldn’t have it often, but whenever we would my family and I--” He pauses, as if he is remembering himself now, and Dimitri swallows the disappointment. He had been so delighted to hear Dedue talk about his family, although he doesn’t push Dedue to keep going when the guilt rises that Dedue does not have family of present to speak about. He does, however, give Dedue his nicest smile when he glances over, to show that he was enjoying himself, but Dedue looks quickly down at his meal. “Anyway. This is a basic blend of meats, a few vegetables, beans, usually. There’s a large variety of ways people would make it, although obviously this is the way I’ve always preferred it. Um.” 

Dimitri has never heard Dedue as uncertain and halting as he is now, but he has also never heard him speak about himself as much as now. Dimitri decides he adores it, and only wishes that Dedue will do it more often and more confidently. Dedue flicks the knob at the stove down, grabbing the handle of the pan and moving it off the heat. Dimitri’s chest warms when he catches the faintest blush on Dedue’s cheeks. He says, “It’s served on top of things, usually, I can prepare whatever you would prefer more--”

Dimitri interrupts, “Whatever way you like, I would like to try it like that.” 

Dedue clears his throat. “Of course. Please, sit down, it’s mostly finished. 

So Dimitri sits, on the tables not far away, his hands in his lap and eagerly watching Dedue move about the kitchen. Dedue catches his eye once, and glances away embarrassed, so Dimitri tries to pretend to look around the room, at least. 

Dedue eventually comes over, and sets a single plate down in front of Dimitri. Dimitri immediately feels indignant.. 

“Aren’t you eating with me?”

Dedue looks at him with wide eyes. “Well, I felt it would be...inappropriate, having a meal with the prince so late at night.”

Dimitri huffs. “Dedue, please--” 

“Yes, I know what you will say, but it’s how I feel. Your Highness.” 

Dimitri lets that sit, before, “Well, what about when you need to walk me back? You would probably feel just as bad making me wait for you to eat, so please--”

“I will simply wait to eat until you’ve been safely seen back to your room, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri huffs. Then, drawing his chin up and acts as petulant as he likes. He feels indulgent for himself, tonight. “Dedue, it is late, and I would like the company of my dearest friend. Please. I-I refuse to eat until you sit with me.” 

Dedue looks at him. Affronted, he says, “Your Highness!”

Dimitri grins at him. His voice terribly sincere, he adds, “please, Dedue.” 

Dedue looks at him helplessly for awhile, before he sighs, and walks back to the kitchen and comes back with a plate of his own. Dimitri grins widely at him when he sits next to him. Dedue looks bothered, but Dimitri catches his slight smile when he thinks Dimitri isn’t looking. Dedue clears his throat and starts to talk more, and Dimitri thinks the waves of his deep voice, calming and kind, make a perfect backdrop to the silence of the night.

That night, Dimitri has very nice dreams.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Dimitri tells Dedue once, "Dedue… You are so understanding and kind with those who treat you like--” Dimitri cuts his words sharply in his throat, feeling a thrash of violence and hatred burn there. He takes a second to compose himself, if only for Dedue’s sake. “--trash simply because you are from Duscur. I… It seems unfair, and yet you do it unwaveringly." 

Dedue clenches his fist. It is such a rare show of feelings against his harassers. "Yes, your Highness. It is unfair, if I am entirely honest. But they already see Duscur people as traitors and assassins and scoundrels, and that is only those who allow us to be humans. And even if it… angers me, that people who... _ slaughtered _ innocent people, children and--and--families… I cannot retaliate. I am what lives of Duscur. I cannot let them use my anger against me. And so I make allowances." He pauses for a long time, staring distantly at something. "Again, and again, and again, I must make them." 

Dimitri does not speak for a long while, angry and sad and useless. His jaw and his fist are clenched. After a long while, he says quietly, "I swear to you, Dedue… The kingdom where people of Duscur and people of Faerghus live together as one--I refuse to not let it come about. It must happen. You and I will prove all of them wrong." 

Dedue takes a long moment. Eventually, he looks up at Dimitri, and smile. "Yes. We will."

"And Dedue?" 

"Yes, Your Highness?" 

"Please, do not feel you need to hide your anger from me. I am glad you have it."

  
  
  


Ashe it mentions to Dimitri as they are tending the flowers in the garden absently. Dedue had come in when they had been toiling for a half hour, tells Dimitri of a waiting parcel in his room. Dimitri thanks him and Dedue smiles at him faintly and makes small talk with Ashe before he leaves. Ashe thinks small talk begins with sighing and saying, “I can only wish I had someone to look at me like Dedue does you.” 

Dimitri chokes on the perfumed air of the garden. “I-wh-what could you--what do you mean?!” 

Ashe sighs again, his voice wistful and far off, “Oh, just fantasies, I think. Sometimes, especially after reading certain novels, one really wishes for a true love kind of story, yes? Everytime I see the way Dedue looks at you, I can’t help but be a little jealous. It reminds me of those romance novels, and the way the really good ones make you feel.” 

Dimitri can’t breathe. He kneels there gasping before he bursts out, “Ashe, I do not--” He lets out a sharp breath. “Why, Dedue does not look at me in any sort of way.” 

Ashe peers at Dimitri curiously. “I really don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at anyone else like that. I especially have never seen such a thing displayed so casually.” After a moment of Dimitri gaping at him like a fish, Ashe suddenly seems to remember the thing he is usually so conscientious of. He and Dedue are alike in that manner. Dimitri tries not to be unpleasant about it, especially because Ashe is very earnest and adoring of Dedue as well. Dimitri thinks that alone is a very respectable trait. Ashe blushes bright red and sputters, “Oh, Your Highness, I am so--I am so sorry! I did not mean to insinuate anything! I am--simply seeing the fact that Dedue values you as his friend and his prince, of course, I would never--I am so sorry, Your Highness. If you could find it in you to forgive me…” 

Dimitri says, absently, “It is not a problem, I have already forgotten,” although it sticks in his mind from absent thoughts to his dreams, and he is dizzy and unfocused the rest of the day. 

Does Dedue really look at him that way? In any different way at all? Dimitri knows he has a Look for Dimitri and Dimitri alone, but that was only a thing the two of them exchanged between them. When Dimitri isn’t looking, however...is there something? 

He tries to look for it. 

He starts looking at Dedue more, trying to catch him at...whatever he may be doing. At first, Dedue doesn’t seem to think anything of it. Many times, he’ll already be looking Dimitri’s direction, and Dimitri gets so startled at being caught he doesn’t think to see if Dedue had been looking at him differently. When Dedue notices him, his expression seems to shift warmer but it’s still--it’s just the way Dedue looks at him as he always does. Yes, he probably looks...caring, at the least, but to say it’s...romantic, that would certainly be pushing it, wouldn’t it? He probably looks at all his friends that way--Dedue is a very caring man, Dimitri would not be surprised. 

Except that it’s not the same. Now that he’s looking, he’s flustered to say there is a definite difference. Dedue is certainly  _ affectionate _ in a subtle way, but when Dimitri is under those eyes, he feels rather adored. Like Dedue thinks of him as something precious and special. Is it Dimitri’s own rose colored vision, his own fantasies and wishes for Dedue that are doing this? He...he wouldn’t put it past himself. It sours his mood, but he feels very certain in that conclusion. Dedue probably just has the expression he thinks is befitting of a vassal to his prince. That’s all it must be, and Dimitri cannot let himself be carried away by his own wants. 

Dimitri sulks all the way up until he sees Ignatz and Dedue together in the library, farther on the east end and down the long rows to an empty area with a few benches. Dedue sits on one, holding a large piece of paper gently in his hands. He’s giving it very careful consideration, and Dimitri realizes, an even more open version of the fondness he’s thought Dedue had been carrying for him. It strikes Dimitri right where he’s already wallowing, and he bitterly thinks  _ he is more adoring for a piece of paper from someone who hasn’t know him nearly as long, but why would he be anything else? Especially for an animal like y--  _

He can’t think too far like that. He has to remain calm and not give himself away. 

He can’t help but stay on how Dedue looks though. He looks so…. _ loving _ . His eyebrows are tilted up slightly, a half lidded soft gaze capped over a soft smile. Like whatever is on that paper is absolutely cherished and--there’s really no doubt that if Dedue were ever in love, it must look something like that. He sighs, and then walks out, because he really only has so much self control. He is happy for Dedue though, under the disappointment. He can’t quite imagine what would be on a piece of paper that deserved such a look, but he really did look...he looked gorgeous, as always, all the more so when he radiated such happiness. 

He lingers outside the library itself for a second, trying to think of what to do with his time, because he really did need a book in there yet he feels like going back now would simply be embarrassing. 

Ignatz pushing the door open next to him, and exclaims at the sight of him. “Oh! Dimitri! Exactly who I needed to see!” 

Dimitri shoves a smile on his face. “Oh, well, what can I help you with then?” 

Ignatz laughs quietly, bashful yet almost...amused? “Well, it’s just this...thing. I, um, made something,” and here he is certainly blushing furiously, looking away sheepishly. “A-and, I had thought it might have been a nice gift for Dedue and...well, he certainly seemed to like it, but I couldn’t get him to take it. Still, could you...maybe hold on to it? It seemed like he really wanted to have it, but,” he shrugs, smiling amicably. “You know. Would you mind?” 

Dimitri sighs hard inwardly. Is this what he was looking at? Dimitri is stuck between terribly curious and glad to have the chance to figure out what it was and terribly bitter, because whatever it was made Dedue look like that and Dimitri cannot. 

“I--” 

Ignatz is already saying, “Thank you so much, Dimitri! See you later,” and disappearing down the hall. Dimitri stand there lost before looking at the paper shoved into his hand. It’s turned the other way, he presumes--this side only has the date of a day ago inscribed at the bottom. 

Dimitri flips it over, and then blushes harshly up to his ears. 

On it is a portrait of himself painted beautifully in soft and striking colors, which really capture his likeness quite well ( _ except for the missing monster in hi--)  _ which he would love to focus on and commend Ignatz on, but he’s too busy feeling very much like he’s dying over the realization that this ( _ this?!) _ was what Dedue was looking at. 

Oh. Oh, goodness. He is...he bites his lip to stop his grin, but he feels butterflies and warmth in his chest, and an overwhelming pleased rush through him. 

Sylvain tells him later that his good mood is nice but confusing, and Dimitri barks out a loud laugh and claps him on the shoulder way too hard. He looks at Dedue across the room. Dedue gives him a small confused look, but there’s a softness at his mouth as soon as he looks at him. 

Dimitri feels like he is the sun. 

  
  
  
  


Dimitri arrives to the training grounds around midday. In the corner of the main sparring area, Dedue is crossing wooden staffs with Felix. This isn't unusual, obviously, but Dedue is also, well….not wearing a shirt. He is, however, wearing the loose trousers fit for fighting, the band neatly tight around his waist, and his hands have basic wrapping around the knuckles and his wrists.  _ Felix _ is still wearing a shirt, although it is loose and unbuttoned at the top to provide air against the heat and sweat. 

Felix is very good looking, and Dimitri can acknowledge that. It’s a basic fact about one of his friends, although not distracting or distressing in any way. 

Dedue, on the other hand-- 

It is very hard for Dimitri to watch, especially with the confusing feelings he already has toward Dedue. Adding being able to make his head swoop low and his stomach tighten strangely does not help.

Dedue is...very handsome. Dimitri knows this. Dimitri has been frustrated over this before. However...Dedue’s muscles are very well defined, and seeing him heated and sweaty, drops of sweat making their way slowly across his dark skin and giving it a wet shine...it’s…

Dimitri is appalled at himself. He is thirsting over Dedue in a disrespectful way, and--and Dedue is holding his arm across his chest to stretch his arm, and his chest itself is very very impressive--

Dimitri practically runs out of the area. He is  _ pitiful _ . 

Dimitri sees him later when he’s lifting weights later, and watching Dedue’s muscles flex while he is _still shirtless._ It starts making Dimitri unable to look at Dedue without thinking of how muscled he is, the way those muscles look without the shirt. It is...entirely improper. He is such being a terrible man, ogling Dedue the way he is! 

Dedue is reading a textbook next to him one evening when he pauses, and after a thoughtful minute, turns to Dimitri and asks, “Dimitri, have I done anything to displease you?” 

The shock of it nearly sends Dimitri off his chair. “I--what! No, Dedue, of course, that is entirely impossible. What could possibly make you believe that?” He stares wide eyed at Dedue, until it occurs to him, and his eyes narrow and his voice goes lower, “If you’ve heard any of that utter garbage those knights spill, give me their names and I will--” 

“No, Your Highness, nothing of the sort. Although I have told you many times that I am not bothered, and if I were, it is something I can take care of myself.” 

Dimitri looks down at the table, faintly ashamed. “Yes, of course, Dedue. I apologize. I would never imply you are not capable--” 

Dimitri gets the faintest smile from Dedue, a tinge of amusement to it. “I know, Your Highness. I know the man you are well enough to never betray your real self like that.” 

Dimitri’s head says,  _ the real self is the animal, I am nothing like the light you see me as. _ Dimitri says, “...Thank you, Dedue. I feel very touched by that, coming from you.” 

Dedue’s smile tips wider, and then turns back to his book and his face goes back to its resting neutrality, before something blinks in his eyes and he turns back to Dimitri. “However, Your Highness, if I may be so blunt.” 

“Please, Dedue. You know I always want your honesty rather than your flattery.” 

Dedue’s face doesn’t become less serious as he says, “You will often get both from me, Your Highness. However, the matter I wanted to tend to is...well, the reason I worried you may be displeased with me…” He clears his throat. “I feel you have not been able to look at me as of late.” Dedue’s face doesn’t change for awhile, before something dark and sad washes over it before he can hide it. Dimitri immediately worries. “...I would not expect this of you, but if it is because of the fact that I am from Duscur--” A layer of steel Dimitri never sees on Dedue regarding himself overlays him. “If that is the reason, I do not regret informing you it is something I would not and cannot change. However, I am sorry if something about me makes you uncomfortable--” 

“Goddess, no, Dedue!” Dimitri feels panicked and angry at the same time. Dedue has expressed sentiments of not being as fond of Faerghus often, and Dimitri feels the same at times like this. “Of  _ course _ not! There is nothing about you that would--I--Oh, Dedue, please. It is--rather the opposite.” His cheeks burn, but he would rather feel embarrassed than Dedue even have the faintest idea Dimitri is any less than entirely ecstatic to be around him. “Dedue, I hope this does not make  _ you _ uncomfortable, but I may have...avoided your eye lately because I...find you rather attractive. It is simply that. It became...more obvious to me as of late, and I was--embarrassed, despite everything. I apologize for causing any doubt in you.” 

Dimitri had kept Dedue’s eye for his determined speech, but after he feels...quite more than a little embarrassed, and he desperately wants to avoid his eye. However, he wants to stand his ground. He swallows as small as he can and keeps his gaze level. 

Dedue is staring at him with the most naked amount of shock he has ever seen on him. His mouth is parted just enough, and his eyes are wide and open. Dimitri feels a faint roll of shame over him for how his gaze catches on Dedue’s mouth for a second too long. It is this that finally makes him dart his eyes away, and he turns in his seat to face forward once again. “Well! I-If that is all, I assume we can return to work.” He clears his throat. “Unless you have anything else, I will be reading.” 

Dedue leaves him in silence for several minutes, which leaves Dimitri thinking he will not get much of a response at all.

When Dedue carefully clears his own throat, it cuts through the silence effectively. Dimitri stops reading, but he keeps his eyes on the pages and his body still. A paralyzing fear sits inside him. Dedue speaks hesitant, his voice a low murmur, “I...never imagined you may feel that way. I am--honored, and flattered that you see me this way.” Dimitri’s shoulders unconsciously rise up, scared of a potential rejection in his future. Then, Dedue speaks with a thick amount of emotion that takes Dimitri a second to realize is his own embarrassment, “I...of course, find you--well, beautiful, yourself, but I am sure you are well aware of this. Absolutely breathtaking, actually.” Dedue lets that sit, and Dimitri strains to see him out of the corner of his eye and catching him looking down at the table with a faint blush on his face. It makes a thrill rise in Dimitri. Dedue clears his throat again, hastily turning back to face his own books. “Yes, well, I’ll be focusing now as well. Excuse me for bothering you.” 

Dimitri bites down on a small grin the entire time they are in the library, but he thinks Dedue catches him at it anyway. Because he is already perfect, of course, he does not tease Dimitri on it.

When it comes time for the ball, Dimitri is...nervous, to say the least. He wants to ask Dedue. He wants to ask Dedue so very badly, but he can’t imagine a scenario in which Dedue would let him. And that’s only regarding Dedue’s sense of loyalty, much less whether he’s actually interested in Dimitri like that. Dimitri wants to think that he does, but it’s so hard to think that a man as good as Dedue would look at Dimitri and see someone not only to protect but to...cherish. There’s a part of him that says the way Dedue treats him can’t be described as anything but cherished affection, but Dimitri still feels weary of thinking so kindly of himself. It must be his brain trying to trick him, he’s sure of it. 

He goes out, to try and get his mind off it, but he runs into Dedue. He’s doing nothing out of the ordinary--things Dimitri has seen him do day in and day out, and he treats Dimitri exactly the same--but Dimitri is still enchanted by how lovely he is and how much he enjoys simply being around him. It just seems to prove Dimitri could never be with a man like him. Not when Dimitri is...himself.

When the time of the ball finally comes, Dimitri has not been able to work up the nerve to ask. But...he’s going to. He’s planned it. Since he hasn’t asked Dedue to be his date to the ball as an event, asking for one dance will be more manageable. He has more of a chance there. And if he gets rejected, it’ll be no big deal. 

He knows as he thinks it that it’s bullshit. If he gets a rejection from Dedue, he knows it will stick and cling to him like a brand. He can’t seem to live with the idea that Dedue would dislike him, even if he  _ knows _ a rejection wouldn’t mean he doesn’t like him at all. He has to be kind to himself, he can’t let Dedue think him a fool. He just wants a dance, but he’ll be fine if he doesn’t get it. Just because Dedue doesn’t want a dance doesn’t mean he hates Dimitri. He can do this 

The days leading up, Dedue has asked him who His Highness had planned to go with, curious and dutiful, but Dimitri had barely been able to answer for fear that all he would be able to say was  _ I only want for time with you, you alone _ . His brain would make a habit of going off into dramatic monologues about his undeserving nature and Dedue’s seeming perfection, and spilling that to Dedue would be premature, embarrassing, not to mention four or five other terrible things. 

But it finally comes, and Dimitri dances with a few people he had needed to, others friends who usually asked him first because he’s too busy looking around for Dedue, and yet he’s still worried about people looking at any of them and thinking his affections lie anywhere but with Dedue. 

He loves him so very much, it is going to drive him mad. 

He sees Dedue across the room. He’s taken a few dances as well, and Dimitri has tried not to watch for any sign that he may be enamored with one of their classmates He hasn’t seen anything, although he has admittedly been paranoid over the slightest sign that he might like anyone more than friendship. He’s being an absolute fool, at this point. 

There is no sense in dragging it out. It could end with a moment he will absolutely cherish forever, or something that is disappointing but  _ not _ \--it is not, even if his more dramatic side would like to think so--not something that will ruin his life.

He takes a deep breath that almost hurts his throat with how sharp it is, and then he strides over to where Dedue is hanging around the drinks table. Dedue looks up at him. “Your Highness. Are you having a nice time?” 

Dimitri feels overwhelmingly dizzy. “Yes, yes, Dedue, I-I have. Um. I wanted to ask.” 

Dedue’s brow pinches, and he takes a step closer “Your Highness, is something wrong?” 

Dimitri straightens, and breathes, and tries not to panic. He should be more refined than this! He says, evenly, “Dedue. Please-please do me the honor of allowing me a dance.” After a moment, he hastily adds, “with you, I-I would like to dance with you. Please.” 

Oh, dear goddess, he sounds absolutely pathetic, he can’t believe anyone thinks he can be prince. He truly is simply a boar, a monster of a man and useless even when he has his wits about him and taking advantage of a wonderful man who is kind and giving and gorgeous and--

Dedue sets his drink down, his eyes slightly widened but still looking at Dimitri with an intense, attentive expression.”I-Your Highness, it would be my honor, but are you sure it would be appropriate--” 

Ah. Now this Dimitri is prepared for, simply on principle. “Of course it would be appropriate, Dedue. It would be a great honor to be able to dance with my most prized friend at an event like this. I--It is something I would adore very much, Dedue.” 

Dedue stops, his mouth parted, before he says, 

“Very well.” 

Dimitri thinks that may have been the most romantically exciting thing he’s ever heard. He beams with no reservation or control, and quickly takes Dedue’s hand, leading him out onto the dance floor. He doesn’t go to a far corner, because he doesn’t want Dedue to think he’s only dancing with him if he’s barely visible, but he also doesn’t think Dedue would be comfortable with the attention of standing in the middle of the room. When they settle, Dedue’s hands hover in the air, before going to his shoulder. Dimitri says, “You may lead, Dedue. You are certainly taller, and I’m sure you’re far more graceful than I,” with a laugh. 

Dedue looks troubled by that, and says, “Of course not, Your Highness, you are a wonderful dancer, but if--if you would feel more comfortable, I will gladly do so.” 

Dimitri smiles up at him and places his hand decisively on Dedue’s shoulder. Even if it is only for this one dance, he wants...something like this. Something where he can feel perhaps simply in a fairy tale romance scenario. With Dedue it’s--it feels too good, but Dimitri wants to focus on..Dedue, right now. Dedue, and only Dedue.

He looks so very handsome, which Dimitri is now realizing is even more true up close. He doesn’t believe he will have the ability to stay unflustered the entire night, or even for one dance. Dedue always looks very nice in the school uniform, as Dimitri has been stuck thinking about or...ogling, sometimes. With a suit designed for a special occasion he looks overwhelmingly dashing, Dimitri must say. The cut around his broad shoulders and arms are tailored perfectly and dipping in for the cut of his waist, and Dimitri looks up just slightly to Dedue and is confronted with Dedue’s calming, strong features staring right back, handsome and framed by his usual ponytail. Dimitri knees are not completely stable. He blushes terribly strong. The fact that he even thought he could do this without getting flustered is absolutely ridiculous. He looks off to the side, and says quietly, “Dedue, you really are quite the dancer.” 

Dedue hums, and his hand on his waist feels so strong, reliable and caring,  _ warm _ , that Dimitri’s heart flutters. “You’re quite talented as well, your Highness, although I appreciate the compliment.” 

And Dimitri wants to scream that he has a thousand more compliments for him, that he could go on and on and on, and that he loves him and thinks he’s wonderful and wants to kiss him, just once--but he shouldn’t. He really, really, shouldn’t. But god, does he want to. Dedue is still smiling, soft and handsome and so beautiful Dimitri’s heart gets stuck in his throat. 

He says, choked, “Dedue, you look--you look very handsome tonight.” 

Dedue startles, and Dimitri is shocked and pleased when he sees the faintest pink bloom high on his cheeks. A blush. Because of him. He says, “Um, thank you, Your Highness, You look…” And his gaze gets very intense on Dimitri for a moment, and Dimitri can’t breathe or look away or even think. Dedue murmurs, softly, just under a whisper, “Tonight you look...gorgeous. As always.” 

So faint Dimitri would not have heard it if he had not been straining for the slightest bit of anything Dedue had to say, Dimitri hears Dedue whisper his name--Not ‘Your Highness’ or anything of the sort, but  _ Dimitri _ , fond and reverent and adoring. 

The rest of the dance Dimitri just trades looks with Dedue every once and awhile, being swept around the room and following along in Dedue’s arms. They dance for three songs without realizing it, and when Dedue brings it up, Dimitri stares at him, that same tension tight and vibrating in the air, and says, “Dedue. Please come with me.” 

Dimitri leads him out of the room and onto a balcony away from the ball and the action and everything that could bother them. 

He sighs, “Dedue,” softly, and when Dedue dutifully replies, “yes, Your Highness,” but still soft and fond and heavy, Dimitri surges forward and cups his jaw and kisses him. Dedue’s arms wrap around his waist, and Dimitri can feel his stunned expression even as he kisses Dimitri back with such attentive care Dimitri feels he might cry. 

They trade soft kisses until Dedue suddenly pulls back, and when he wipes Dimitri’s cheeks and Dimitri realizes he is crying, he’s not surprised. 

Dedue says, “Your Highness.” 

Dimitri laughs, shaky and embarrassed. “Yes, yes Dedue I know.” 

“Your Highness, please, what’s wr--” 

“It’s--!” Dimitri doesn’t quite know. He just burst. “I just--I want you so very badly Dedue, and you are so very wonderful, but I would not be allowed to have you, would I? Not by you, because you think it would be improper, and not by-by those who expect me to be a good King, if they want me to have heirs, or the kingdom, because they are foolish and ignorant and-and” and his voice goes angry and violent for just a moment, on the word “ _ filthy _ , they know nothing and yet they judge Duscur so, and who cares, maybe the man I love is a man from Duscur but he--but you-” And Dimitri is nothing but emotions thrashing in his body, but Dedue softly wraps him in arms and speaks to the top of his head, rubbing his back comfortingly and giving the most perfect embrace Dimitri has ever been in. 

“Shh, Dimitri. I--I know. I am..sorry.” And he says nothing else, but holds Dimitri, and Dimitri feels very simply and overwhelmingly loved in his hold, and he cries harder. 

It is several minutes before Dimitri calms down enough and Dedue lets him go after even longer, but Dimitri wipes his eyes and says, “I am so very sorry Dedue. That was extremely inappropriate.” 

Dedue simply smiles at him and wipes his face with his thumbs, soft and gentle and caring it makes Dimitri’s face crumple and almost make him cry again. Dedue says, with a smile, “It is no trouble, Dimitri.” 

Dimitri wants to wrap every time Dedue has said his name and keep it with him forever. Dimitri sniffs. “We must be going to my room then, I suppose. No way I shall be seen like this again at the ball.” 

Dedue smiles a little sadly at him, but he walks by his side to his door just the same. Dimitri at the door says, “Thank you for a wonderful night, Dedue. I am very sorry for ruining it, but I--I greatly enjoyed dancing with you. I hope one day we may do it again.” 

Dedue smiles and says, “Me as well, Your Highness.” 

Ah, back to that. But Dimitri figured, and Dedue does not mean to be cruel, only proper. Dimitri smiles, a little dulled, and goes to close the door, but Dedue stops him when he says, 

“Your Highness?” 

Dimitri stops and says, “yes?” 

Dedue smiles, soft and knowing. “I would not be one of the ones to deny you the man you loved, if it made you happy. It would be a blessing...to be with a man like you.” 

Dimitri stares at him for a long moment, before he steps close to Dedue. Dedue just watches him, a little nervous, but he doesn’t stop him when Dimitri leans up on his toes and gives him a chaste, long kiss. Dedue kisses back softly. 

Dimitri pulls away slowly, and just against his lips with his eyes closed, whispers, “Goodnight, Dedue. Thank you.” 

Dedue smiles, small. “Anything for you, Your Highness.” 

And then he turns and goes to his room, and Dimitri stands at the door, watching him leave. 

  
  
  
  


After that, Dimitri finds a familiar dagger under the just vanished Flame Emperor’s feet, and his mind starts to slowly burn. As he watches himself, almost apart from himself, he thinks it is a good thing he got the dance before everything that followed. At least he got to experience a piece of everything he had ever wanted. Now, however, he knows his life is gone. All that remains is on a bloody path for revenge. 

Selfishly, it is also for quiet. Final, blissful quiet. 

All he has to do if satisfy the dead. 

  
  


After Dimitri’s nature has been revealed, Edelgard’s true filth of character with it, Dedue talks to him privately in his room. 

Dimitri says to him a low voice like a coward, facing away from Dedue. “It might be best for you to stay away from me for the time being.” 

Every time he speaks now it is with a low growl behind his words. It is at it’s quietest when talking to Dedue, but apparently even his overwhelming love for Dedue can’t hold back the animal in him. 

Dedue takes a long heavy moment before he speaks. Says, “I am here to serve and protect and,” He takes a hesitant pause. “to  _ cherish  _ you through all of your life.” It strikes Dimitri, before Dedue continues, that Dimitri is not sure he has ever heard Dedue speak with such emotion in his voice--so desperate, so serious, so genuine. Dedue continues, “My wish is to devote myself to you for my entire life, and that includes the times that are not easy.” 

Dimitri snarls, “This is not an  _ uneasy  _ time, this is me changing into a  _ monster _ .”

How can Dedue say such wonderful, loving things to him when Dimitri is--when Dimitri cant--

_ Fuck! _

Dedue says, always so calm and kind, “While I disagrees, I won’t argue with you if you do not wish it. And...I do not care. Because as long as it is you, Dimitri, you are the man I cherish all the same.”

Dimitri stalks close. “Even if I kill, even if I am a merciless, cruel king who thirsts for blood. Even then, Dedue? Will you--” And Dimitri’s voice breaks, weak weak  _ weak! _ “Will you still cherish me, even then?” 

Dedue says, soft and vulnerable, “I know you do not wish to be that kind of king, that your goals have never been toward that end. However.” Dedue straightens, to his full incredible height, and looks down to stare Dimitri in the eye. “If you do end up on that path, Your Highness, I will be there with you. Anything you do, as long...as long as it is you, I shall be by your side.”. 

Dimitri…Ah. He reaches up, surprised, and wipes a tear from his own cheek. Of course he is crying. He thinks about living a peaceful life with Dedue, where they could, perhaps--now that Dimitri knows Dedue might have the possibility to feel the same--where he and Dedue could live a life happy and loved, simple without the weight of ghosts who won’t leave and a war racing towards them. 

To Dedue, as he stares at the wet spot on his finger, Dimitri says, a hushed, choked voice, “Oh, Dedue.” 

He’d meant to say more. There is so much he feels he must say to Dedue, so much he needs to do. At the least, even without looking up to see a reaction, Dimitri trusts Dedue understands him all the same. 

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Before the Imperial Army makes its attack on Garreg Mach, Dedue worries about Dimitri. It is the most jagged their relationship has ever been. Dimitri laughs, eyes wild, when Dedue asks if he’s okay. Dimitri is so close to appeasing those he lost and getting them out of his  _ FUCKING HEAD.  _ Of course he is okay. Never better. 

When he tells Dedue the same, he just looks at him like he is sad. Then he inclines his head to Dimitri, and says, as always, “Of course, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri focuses enough to look at Dedue sadly. All he wants…

He imagines a happy life with Dedue, perhaps somewhere on a farm in Duscur, where nothing bad ever happened to Dedue and no one haunts Dimitri. 

It is so idealistic it disgusts Dimitri. He snarls at himself, and when he can see through his rage once more, Dedue has left the room. 

Good. The more Dedue sees him this way, the more Dimitri wants for the fantasy. There’s no use when Dimitri already has his purpose. 

To take the goddamn filth she calls a  _ head _ . 

(In one part of his head, a place that feels tucked away and the only part untouched by his rage, he thinks it cries softly about how much he has lost already, how much it feels like an aching chasm in his chest to have done so much to distance himself from Dedue.) 

It doesn’t matter, though. He knows what to do, and sacrifices must be made in the name of revenge. 

  
  


\---

  
  
  


Between being tortured and the endless silence only cut through by the ghosts that refuse to leave him alone, Dimitri sometimes, sometimes,  _ sometimes... _ thinks of Dedue. It settles faint and quiet in his chest, and he lets his eyes unfocus, and he imagines Dedue by his side. Dedue, bright and handsome and lovely, perfect and beautiful. His kind eyes and the way he would look at Dimitri every single time he saw him, no matter how many times he saw Dimitri at his worst and went lower. 

Dimitri sits in the dark and aches with his love for him, with how much he wishes he was wherever Dedue is as well as wishing Dedue is as far as he can possibly be. 

It is when he feels the lightest and most wonderful, thinking of Dedue. It only makes him ache harder, and yet he loves it more. 

\---

  
  
  


In the doorway, there is a figure, backed by light and encased in the dark from the front. Dimitri barely squints, so used to this dance. What will they bring this time, to try and hurt him? Is it another hallucination? He’s used to all of it. It does not matter. 

The figure takes a sharp breath in through their nose, and Dimitri knows. 

It could be a hallucination. His brain wants for Dedue so badly, it would not be unrealistic. 

But Dimitri  _ knows _ him. 

His Dedue. His perfect, beautiful Dedue. 

A tear starts its way down his cheek lazily, and Dedue is already taking steps to him and reaching for him. 

Dimitri’s grips the front of Dedue’s armor, the strongest grip he has ever given, and steps forward, up and on his toes to press his mouth against Dedue’s. He kisses him hot and desperate and burning, and he is crying all the while. Dedue holds his waist tenderly, and kiss him back, gentle. He slowly pulls back, whisper against Dimitri’s mouth, hurried, “Your Highness, I--I missed you terribly, but we must get out of here first. I have to get you safe.” 

Dimitri gulps, feels like he can breathe since it all fell apart, and then follows him, their hands clasped together. 

At one point, their hands are broken apart, and Dimitri does not see Dedue again. 

Ever. 

He is  _ dead _ . His  _ Dedue _ . 

When the realizations slams into him, he goes into a sobbing, bloody rage. He refocuses somewhere in a forest. He has blood on his armor. Dizzy, disenchanted and seeing no point to  _ anything _ , he realizes he does not have his heart in his chest. 

He only has revenge to look forward to now. His only purpose. 

Dimitri, Dedue’s precious highness, has died along with him. The way it should always have been. 

The boar remains.

  
  


When Dedue comes to his aid, all those years later, Dimitri chokes on the surge of life and love in his throat. It all comes rushing back to him then, with Dedue’s return. Dedue was always his life and his heart, and even as he focuses on the fight, Dedue by his side (finally, finally, finally) he feels his heart slowly grow back in his chest, raw and new, but warm.

  
  


Dedue being alive fills him with such light in his chest. Dimitri has not  _ felt _ anything close to this since Dedue died--or, at least, since he’d thought that he had. Plagued by hauntings and revenge, the addition of loving the one he loved most--it had been completely unbearable. He had carried Dedue around with him those five years, trying hard not to imagine his ideal future for the both of them. It hurt too hard knowing that at that point, it was no longer even a pipedream, but a complete fantasy without even a foothold in reality. 

But he does not have to worry about that now. He doesn’t have to worry about any of it, aside from getting his revenge. But what his heart and bones have been aching for-- they have finally settled. His Dedue has returned, asking to stay by his side. He is only more beautiful with time. The scars on his face make him want to rip apart the putrid filth that dared touch his love, and yet he wears it so well--of course he would age breathtakingly. 

Dimitri yearns to watch him grow old with such fierceness it tightens his pain. He cannot think of it, it is something too pure. Too pure for a dead prince. 

Even if Dimitri is the exact opposite of the people Dedue  _ deserves  _ to be around, he is so--

it startles him to think it. 

He is happy. 

He looks over to where Dedue is, talking with Mercedes and Ashe, Felix hovering near with his arms crossed but nudging into the conversation. Dedue’s eyes are soft, his mouth gentle and happy. 

Dimitri has been reunited with his Dedue. 

His savior. 

The cool, burning love ever in his chest. 

He curls his fingers into a tight fist. 

He will not let  _ anything  _ happen to him again. There is nothing he will not do to ensure it so.

  
  
  


That night, Dimitri places his palm gently over Dedue’s jaw, touching him with reverent care. He presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes, feeling flayed open. He whispers, “Please, never leave me again, Dedue. I couldn’t bear it.”

  
  
  


Their attack on Gronder Hill is coming up. Mostly, Dimitri stalks the halls when he is not hiding in the monastery. Dedue comes to him often. When he is unmoving for hours, Dedue will come, bearing a plate of food for the both of them. It almost makes him smile, because he knows Dedue did it because he knew Dimitri would have been indignant if he hadn’t brought something for himself. Dedue will mostly eat slowly by himself, when Dimitri does not immediately come to him. Eventually, Dimitri will find he can try to focus less on the voices, move and settle next to him. He rests his head on Dedue’s shoulder as he picks at the food. One time before Dedue leaves, he turns his head and presses a long kiss to the top of Dimitri’s head. Dimitri still sits frowning at the floor even after he’s gone, but he feels the flutter of happiness deep in his gut, the same it is every time Dedue is near him. 

He feels it is the closest thing to coherency he has. Moments where the rush of love for Dedue flows over him, and Dedue himself is near him. His presence has always been calming, and having him back after five empty years, it is a balm to an incurable pain. 

  
  
  
  


He realizes.

They could die tomorrow. They could have died anytime throughout the five years they had been separated. He had thought Dedue  _ had _ died. Each and every fight they take on could be the last. Dimitri has been violently hyperfocused on the fighting and killing and getting his revenge. 

But looking at Dedue and thinking it is the last time...it is too much. 

He wants to tell Dedue the breadth of all that he burns and feels for him. But--how could he--Dedue, of all people? He is perfect. Dimitri has held this in his mind since he and Dedue first become inseparable. Nothing has ever even threatened to change his mind, instead only making him more certain it’s the one thing he got right. How could Dimitri burden him with this love of his. From a man-- _ no _ , an  _ animal _ \--such as Dimitri...how could he possibly put the love of a thing like that on a beautiful person like Dedue? 

It is ...impossible. 

But he needs to say something. Before he can’t.

He calls Dedue to his rooms, and Dedue is there soon after. 

Dimitri cannot meet his eyes for the longest time, sits on his bed and stares off into the distance, eyes lost to the world. Dedue waits for him patiently, there until he needs it. 

He feels like choking. He loves him so much. 

He swallows thickly. Then, he turns to Dedue, looking at him from below, under his brow and up at where he stands not far. He says, low and dragging with all the grave seriousness he feels, “Dedue, I must bother you for another promise.” 

Dedue looks at him, open and thoughtful, a little curious. He nods easily. “Of course. Anything you wish, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri’s eyes bear into the floor. 

“Tomorrow.” Their biggest fight yet. The one that will either bring his revenge or demise. The biggest risk to Dedue’s life so far. “I want you...As soon as you are running ragged, or even before, or whenever you can make it quickly enough--I want you to retreat. As far as you can into safety. And remain there until I either return safe or...or anything else.” He clenches his teeth, swallows again. “Please.” 

Dimitri keeps his head down, waits for an answer. For so long, even though he expected something immediately, there is nothing but a weighted silence thick in the air. 

When Dimitri looks up, Dedue is wildly affronted, and also the closest thing to angry with Dimitri he has ever been. Dimitri holds back his sharp inhale. He’s unsure if he’s anxious or gratified.

“Dedue?” 

Dedue’s eyes flicker, and he looks off to the side, breathing slowly, carefully. He lets out a long controlled breath. He says, “Your Highness...I...you…” He raises his head, defiant, and meets Dimitri’s eyes head on. “I am sorry. This is something I absolutely cannot do under any circumstances.” 

Panic shatters inside Dimitri, and anger rushes over it. He stands quickly. “Dedue, please! You said anything I wish. This is what I wish for! This, more than anything!” 

Dedue face breaks, over and over. “Your Highness, please, think of what you are asking of me. I would do anything for you--” 

“Then this--!” 

“But  _ this _ ! I will do anything for you,  _ so long _ as you are safe and happy. I cannot always make these things happen, but I cannot abandon this. It is everything to me.” 

Dimitri’s eyes are going blurry. He thinks it’s tears. They feel unfamiliar. He steps closer to Dedue, chest burning a high fire. He knows his voice is bellowing, scraping raw, but he needs Dedue to understand. He  _ needs _ him. “ _ You _ are everything to me!  _ Everything _ , Dedue, do you hear me? I am not exaggerating, not even the slightest. You are the only thing I want to protect, and--” 

“I-I--” Dedue looks taken aback by this reveal, but still stumbles forward. “Your Highness, then you must understand it is the same for me, and--” 

Dimitri steps forward and places his hand on Dedue’s chest firmly. Anyone else he would have shoved as hard as he can, felt the rage flicker and burst out of him. With Dedue it is a violent fight not to collapse into his arms, holds him gently, kiss his mouth and tell him through that how he feels. Dimitri tries to convey what he can through this simple gesture, desperate and panicked. “I cannot lose you, Dedue. Not again. Not ever. I cannot be safe and happy if--if I do not have you. You, my--my wonderful Dedue. You are what  _ makes _ me safe and happy, never mind keeping it that way. And--and I do not want you to--to  _ die! _ Because you were too busy following a duty you feel to me that you have never been held to, that I do not ever expect you to--” 

Dedue steps even closer, and suddenly his hands are gripping Dimitri’s face, his green eyes close and intense in Dimitri’s eyes. He is, as always, so gorgeous. Seeing him from so incredibly close is something he’s never gotten to do. Not to this extent. It takes his breath away. He is a limp, starstruck thing in Dedue’s hands. 

Dedue’s eyes are a fire. “Your Highness.” His voice is firm, almost scolding, if not for the undercurrent of gentleness when he talks to Dimitri. “It is  _ not _ because of a duty, although I will not say I have never felt that way. But if you think I feel obligated even against my will--No. That is not and has never been the case. I want to protect you and make your life--as best I can, whatever I can help with. And not because you are the prince or the king, although I hold you in that regard as I should.” His eyes become soft, vulnerable, almost scared. “I do all that I do for you because I...I cherish you so greatly...I live and die for you because...you are everything. It could be no one else. You...you are… ”

Dedue’s eyes glitter with a liquid shine, and Dimitri feels choked. He moves his hand on his chest up to cup Dedue’s jaw, and Dedue stares into him pleadingly, just for him to get it when he can’t put it into words. 

Dimitri says, throat tight, “Dedue...do you…” he closes his eyes for a moment, and braces himself. His heart thumps scared in his chest, and he feels like he is tipping off a cliff into freezing water beneath. “Dedue, do you love me?” 

Dimitri opens his eyes. Dedue looks wrecked, open and spilling his feelings like a great wave--”Your Highness, I have done nothing but love you with all that I have since the very moment we met.” 

Dimitri surges up on his toes and seals his mouth hot to Dedue’s, and Dedue clutches him around the waist, pulling him closer and kissing him with the same burning desperation Dimitri is acting with. It is both a gentle and fierce back and forth, and even as Dimitri gasps into Dedue’s mouth, over and over, it feels like the first time he has been able to breathe for five, nine, spilling past twenty, years and years and years. 

  
  


Dimitri lies on Dedue’s chest as Dedue sleeps on his back. His chest rises and falls steadily, and Dimitri has been resting on him for a good half hour, feeling overwhelmed with how calm he feels. He loves Dedue. He cannot stop thinking about him and being hit with a surge of how powerful it is, the force of his feelings for him. Dedue is perfection. Tomorrow, they could die. The night before, Dimitri has been given a moment plucked and carried from his most lovely fantasies. It feels too lovely to be something that Dimitri has. 

The insomnia has yet to leave him, but he has laid on Dedue’s chest and tried. He feels closer to sleep than he does most nights. 

Dimitri thinks about the next day, and clutches Dedue’s shirt tightly in a fist. His face sets into a scowl, looking out the window across the room, the moon bright in the night. 

He has two missions tomorrow: to get that woman’s head and have his revenge, and to keep his love safe. If Dimitri survives tomorrow, if he returns victorious, it will be with Dedue by his side, or not at all.

  
  
  


Dedue is hurt. 

Dimitri’s heart drops straight out of his chest. 

He rushes over, sliding on his knees to curl his arms around him. There’s a weight of blood on Dimitri’s clothes, but he can’t care for it. All he can think of is pulling Dedue’s firm body into his arms--there is a terrifying limpness to it. Dimitri cries, eyes prickling already and panic bubbling and screeching in his chest. “Dedue!” 

Dedue’s eyes struggle open, forced by Dedue’s will alone, and Dimitri is not sure he would have been able to muster the strength to do for anyone else. 

Dimitri bellows across the field, “Medic! Doctors! Anyone who knows fucking healing magic, get here now or I will  _ take  _ your  _ fucking  _ head!” 

He turns back to Dedue, who is struggling to focus on Dimitri and tilt his head enough to look at him. Dimitri supports the back of his head gently, feeling tears already start to fall. 

Dimitri gasps wetly, “Dedue,  _ please _ .” 

Dedue smiles gently at him. Dimitri’s chest rattles. He can feel his hands shaking, even as he raises one to Dedue’s jaw. He holds his hand paused before he touches, staring at the deep red stain on them. He can’t possibly soil Dedue this way. 

Dedue makes the decision for him, curling his hand around Dimitri’s and pressing it to his cheek, leaning into it. Dedue looks at Dimitri softly, murmurs, “Your Highness.” 

Dimitri sobs out, “Dedue, please, you cannot--You  _ promised  _ me! Safe and happy! I need you!” 

Dimitri looks up, his voice hoarse as he screams as loudly as he can, “Now! Anyone! If you are tending to anyone else--” 

Dedue’s hand touches Dimitri’s cheek, bloody as well, but it is probably his own. He turns Dimitri’s head his way. He says, “Dimitri.”

Dimitri whips his focus back to him, tears falling quickly. Dedue looks so soft and so drained. He looks too close to--

“Dedue,  _ please… _ ” 

Dedue brushes his thumb across Dimitri’s cheekbone, wipes away the tears. 

Dimitri grits his teeth, cursing every damned medic in their army who is wasting their fucking time and not doing their  _ goddamn job _ . “You cannot die, Dedue. I will not allow it.” 

Dedue’s mouth twitches up, and then he looks longer at Dimitri’s eyes, and he looks sad. A determined furrow comes between his brows. “Dimitri.” Dimitri’s heart thumps in his chest. Now? Now?! “I will do my best, Your Highness.” 

Dedue’s fingers wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The strength in him is less than usual. “Though, please, Dimitri, if--if I do die--” 

“You will  _ not-- _ Medics!” 

“If I do! Please. I just want--you must not be stuck on me. Even in death, I will want you happy--” 

“Without _ you?!” _

Dedue’s eyes shine. “Dimitri, please.” 

Dimitri chokes on a body wracking sob, quiets and listens. 

“I want you happy, even if I am not there for it. And...please...continue with our wish for Duscur. I want this--I need this for my people. And...Dimitri…”

He eyes go soft, breathtaking. “I have loved you for so long, and I will continue, even in death. You are so beautiful.” 

Dimitri is shaking. He leans down, and presses a quivering kiss to the side of Dedue’s mouth. He whispers, rattling, “Then  _ live _ .” 

Dedue’s hand clenches tight in the fabric of his shirt. Several medics rush their sides  _ late late late!!!,  _ and Dedue’s body steadily becomes heavier in his arms, dampening his clothes layers deep with his blood, and Dimitri stays there on his knees, clutching his body as tightly as he can, as if if he holds him tight enough, he will stay.

Dimitri sits, angry and stewing in his bad mood at his desk. He has been kicked away from Dedue’s bedside, after days of lashing out angrily at anyone who suggested the same. He visits Dedue at meals, once he wakes in the mornings and before he tries to sleep, and most often an hour after he has tried to sleep and slipped out to check on him again. He is so-- _ angry _ . He knows Dedue is stable. The medics and everything with the slightest affinity in faith magic has reassured him so, and that Dedue only needs rest to let his body truly heal. And Dimitri would never, ever want Dedue to strain himself. But he cannot help craving knowing that Dedue is okay because Dedue is  _ near  _ him. Knowing he’s physically fine and having him near are entirely different things. It feels far too much like the five years he thought Dedue was dead--this, at least, does not come with the screaming pain of thinking he has lost his love. 

That does not mean there is not an ache in him. 

He wants Dedue--by his side, unwaveringly as he always is. Dedue, off but in a situation where he knows he will come back soon. 

He would even have it knowing Dedue was far, as long as he knew he was safe and happy. It is not preferable--having Dedue gone has always felt like a hollow piece he had to wait to regain. But it would be better than being unsure if he will wake up. 

There are firm, quick footsteps outside his door, and then the doors are being shoved open. Two knights stands just at the entrance, out of breath and panting, and between them--

Dimitri shoves to his feet, knowing his face is openly yearning and weak. He breathes, “Dedue.” 

Dedue looks at him and lets out a breath himself. “Your Highness.” 

Dimitri feels the piece in him fall into place, and he steps to the side of his desk. To the guard, he orders, “That will be all. Now, leave.” 

One guard pants, “But, Your Highness, we were told not--” 

Dimitri sends them out. 

Dimitri walks to Dedue, wraps his arms around him as tight as he can without hurting him, and feels Dedue do the same. Dimitri burrows his face into Dedue’s neck, sighing shakily. Voice warbly, he breaks with, “My Dedue.” 

Dedue holds him tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> This!!! Isn’t where I mean to end it but I wanted it posted too bad, plus I liked the idea of posting it on the last day of the decade too much. This might seem like it ends on an angstier note, but this IS a happy ending because Dimitri and Dedue are in love!! fantastic  
> There is an epilogue for this, which is essentially me writing as much fluff as I possibly can about them being in love after the war. It was meant to be the last part to this, but I’d only poked at it and it would have stretched it longer than my patience. I had a lot of fun with this, but I've looked at it so long I have no idea about the quality. However, I really hope you enjoy it <3  
> edit: tysm for all the wonderful responses to this, it rlly makes me SO happy esp for dimidue. It's What They Deserve. On another note, I couldn't stop thinking about this art bc I saw it after I'd written the dancing scene and it'd just been !!!! I loved it. It's such a wonderful style and they have so much more wonderful dimidue pieces, and dimidue content is ! https://twitter.com/fireemblazem/status/1207169384063651840?s=20 
> 
> (Also the epilogue will have the idea this fic was based on that absolutely did not get out of hand. It’s just a smut idea but it fueled me through 18k+ words.)


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